


Thrill of the Hunt

by Jacklyn_Flynn



Series: Tumblr Related [5]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: 100 percent consent, And I don't blame her, Doggy Style, F/M, Save a Horse, fox and the hound, girl loves the d, girl on top, holy shit gwen is a dream to write, lots of fellatio, only acceptable level of consent btw, ride a rutherford, roleplaying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:14:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27530590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacklyn_Flynn/pseuds/Jacklyn_Flynn
Summary: Cullen and Gwen decide to spice up a boring old masquerade party with a little bit of hunter/prey roleplaying.
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Cullen Rutherford/Trevelyan, Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford
Series: Tumblr Related [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1779646
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Thrill of the Hunt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WinterWolfWitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterWolfWitch/gifts).



> I created this for winterwolfwitch (https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/winterwolfwitch) when she won second prize for my giveaway! She let me use her beautiful and sultry Gwen and lemme tell you, this girl is FUN. Cullen will tell you too.

The Vixen’s eyes scanned the swirling silk and tailored suits flitting about the dance floor. Though she looked from face to face, she didn’t recognize a single soul. She wouldn't have, even if her gaze fell upon someone she knew. The ornate masks did their job well. Her own gilded and copper-colored mask had decidedly vulpine features. The sharp snout that followed the line of her own slim nose was adorned with thin gold wire whiskers. All of the warm tones made the brilliant emerald of her irises stand out with striking color. Not that they required any further attention. The jeweled wells into her soul always drew people in.

The low scooping, open chest of her dress revealed her smooth, creamy skin, mimicking the chest of a red fox. The opalescent orange taffeta of her gown accented the mask. The tight corset only brought further attention to her ample curves which were far more voluptuous than most of the women here who followed the Orlesian standard of slim, lithe beauty. Perhaps, a short time ago, she would have been jealous of them, or even insecure of her inability to attain such ‘perfection.’ 

Not any more. At least, not as much.

She smoothed out the soft fabric of her flowing skirt which grew deeper and darker until it was completely black, reflecting the black feet and tail of the red fox. With a quick gesture, she swiped a glass of amber colored whiskey from a servant’s tray, swirling it around before taking a sip. 

With a hum of appreciation, she turned her attention back to the crowd. The oakiness and warmth of the drink still on her tongue as she sought out the eyes that hunted her, the same warm amber as the rich liquor. She’d eluded him thus far but if she wasn’t careful, it would only be a matter of time before she was caught. Having already stayed in one place for too long, The Vixen could swear she could feel the predatory eyes on her, full of dark and erotic promises. With a soft click of her heels, she disappeared back into the crowd. 

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The Hound had been biding his time. He was growing impatient now, tired of the game and ready for the thrill of the catch. The glimpses of his prey had made his mouth water and his muscles roll in anticipation of the chase. He wanted the vulpine beauty to grow complacent, but if he stalked for too long, she would grow overly cautious and he would lose his chance. 

The rich, brown fur trimmed cloak he wore over one shoulder swirled about his leather boots as he walked. The volcanic aurum accents on his tailored cream and brown suit sparkled in the light of the massive candelabras high above the dance floor. The brown leather mask, with the same metal accents kept slipping down his nose. He would hide the adjustment by sliding his fingers through his slick backed hair, or by stroking the dark gold stubble on his jaw. 

All of the Orlesian ladies would titter behind their hands when he walked by and vie for his attention. But he wasn’t here for them. They were not the prize he sought. The prize he had yet to acquire. The prize that he was stealthily approaching. 

She was leaning against a lavish marble pillar. The copper highlights in her golden hair were brought out by the color of her dress and the crimson stained glass around the ballroom. Silently, he stood behind her and reached around her shoulder. He plucked the glass from her hand. 

With a gasp, his prey turned on her heel, emerald eyes wide. Grinning, The Hound downed the rest of the rich liquor in her glass. Her surprise melted into acceptance. Now that the hunt was over, she could throw herself into the enjoyment of being ‘captured’. 

The Hound’s free hand rose and he brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek, head bent close enough to kiss her. “Well, beautiful Vixen. The longer you eluded me, the more I’ve wanted you.” She sucked in a breath and held it when his lips brushed against her own crimson stained ones, though not enough to be considered a kiss. “It’s been  _ hours,” _ he murmured. 

He heard a giggle nearby and glanced over. A young woman, dressed in opulent pearlescent taffeta was watching them from behind an opal fan. Looking down at his prey, he saw a lovely flush on her cheeks. When she looked back up at him, he saw the thrill in her eyes. Despite her embarrassment, there was something about their intimate moment being on display. 

“As lovely as you are to view, you are now mine and mine alone.” Setting aside the glass, he took her hand, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss. 

Pulling her hand free, she bent one knee and reached behind her to slip off her shoe, followed by the other with a relieved sigh. Ever the gentleman, The Hound took them from his lovely prize, letting them hang from his fingers. 

As quietly as they could, the pair left the crowded hall. The further they wandered, the fewer people they encountered. “So,” she glanced up at him, emerald eyes sparkling from beneath the copper mask, “was the hunt everything you expected?” 

“Actually, I expected-” 

Before he could finish, she had hiked up her skirts and sprinted around the corner. His bid to grab her flowing skirts failed. Smart fox, he thought, removing her shoes under the guise of discomfort. He followed her into the next corridor, but she was gone, already dashing down another corner. He glanced down both, trying to determine which she might have taken when something caught his eye. 

Approaching the statue of a woman reaching to the heavens, he hooked his finger into the lacy smalls and plucked them from the open hand. He stuffed them into a pocket, also using the gesture to adjust his pants which were growing uncomfortably tight. 

Continuing down that corridor, he jiggled locked handles and glanced into open doors until he found her. She was facing away from him, fingers deftly unlacing her dress. She looked over her shoulder at him, giving him a sly smile. 

“What sort of hound are you? Letting your prey get away so easily. Would you have found me if I hadn’t left a trail?” Her voice was low and sultry. The creamy skin of her back was tempting and his fingers tingled to trail down the curve of her spine. 

“I will always find you,” his dark promise made her cheeks flush. A most lovely sight. Her shoes clattered to the floor and he took a few slow steps toward her. 

“Mmmm mmm,” she hummed, wagging a finger, “close the door.” 

The Hound did so quickly, fingers pausing on the lock before leaving it open. As he turned back to his prize, he was rewarded with the most lovely sight. He watched with rapt attention as she pushed the dress off of her shoulders, letting it fall and gather into a puffy pool at her feet. She stepped out and turned to face him. 

He could see the hesitation in her eyes though she proudly showed herself to him in all of her voluptuous glory. Her supple curves actually made his mouth water, heavy breasts begging for attention, thick hips ripe for digging fingertips. She was completely bare save for the thigh high stockings of delicate black lace that matched the smalls in his pocket. 

“Maker’s breath, you are utter perfection, my Vixen.” His amber eyes, molten with need, met hers. Her crimson painted lips curved into a delicate smile. 

“The best hunters catch the best prizes.” She settled onto a plush settee, beckoning the Hound with a crooked finger. He closed the distance between them with a few wide strides, burying his fingers in her intricately braided hair and drawing her head back. He bent over her and captured her lips, their masks knocking together. 

The Hound felt her fingers at the front of his pants, undoing laces and fastenings to slip her hand inside. He broke the kiss with a groan when her fingers wrapped around him. He didn’t think he could be any more aroused until she pulled him free of the confines of his pants. 

“So hard and  _ thick _ ,” she murmured, stroking him slowly, “I can’t wait to taste you.” His hips jerked involuntarily at her words, closing his eyes to enjoy the masterful strokes of her hand. She knew just how tightly to grip him and how quickly to pump his length. 

He stood and unfastened the thick fur cloak, letting it fall to the floor followed shortly after by his lavish jacket. Her hands pulled down the waist of his pants as he pulled the shirt up, holding it against his chest to watch her with almost painful anticipation.

The Hound didn’t know if it was the crimson lips around the head of his cock, the feel of her tongue laving against the weeping slit or the emerald eyes looking up at him from beneath dark lashes that took his breath away. It didn’t really matter compared to the utter pleasure he got from all three combined. 

The muscles of his stomach tightened with his sharp exhale and he twitched in her grip. His Vixen’s head bobbed slowly, each time taking slightly more of his hard length and leaving him breathless over and over again. When she moaned around him, telling him she enjoyed this as much as he, his head fell back with a low moan of pleasure. Her free hand slid around his hip to grip his backside, dull nails biting into his flesh the same way he’d imagined his biting into hers. Soon enough….

His head snapped back up again to watch her intently when he felt the head of his cock hit the back of her throat. The hand that had previously been wrapped around him, no longer needed to steady her approach, had moved to his tight sac, fondling and teasing as she hummed around him with a heady moan. 

As she pulled away, he reveled in the sight of her smile, the sultry promise in her eyes as she stroked him with agonizing slowness. His Vixen was far more arousing than he’d anticipated and he already felt the sharp edge of release teasing every nerve ending in his body though none more acutely than those bundled in the swollen head of his cock when she brushed it over her full lips. 

Wanting to touch, he freed his hand by pulling his shirt over his head, tossing it aside to run his fingers through her intricately braided hair. “You are exquisite,” he murmured, swallowing thickly, “please don’t stop.” 

She answered by smiling up at him, a sultry grin that made all sorts of promises. Lifting his cock, she stroked slowly as she descended on his sac again, taking one into her mouth and sucking softly before giving attention to the other. Her tongue did the most amazing things and the Hound was sure he would never get his breath back. She started at the base of his cock, licking slowly up the underside before taking him into her mouth again. 

With a groan, his hand tightened in her hair. “I’m so close, beautiful. You should stop if you don’t want me to-” he cut off with a sharp cry when she hummed around him and took him almost completely into her mouth, throat constricting around him. 

The sight of her slim nose brushing against the dark golden hair around his cock proved to be his undoing. The Hound spilled down her throat with a sharp groan as she continued to bob her head over his twitching length. When he couldn’t stand her ministrations further, he pulled gently on her hair. She released his cock with a pop of her lips and smiled up at him. 

Another bead of seed formed at the head of his cock and she brushed it against her crimson lips, making them shine before her tongue laved over them. He let out a gust of breath when she released him, standing.

Immediately, he wrapped his arms around his Vixen, hauling her against him and capturing the lips that had so recently pleasured him. His tongue thrust between her lips, tasting himself and swallowing the appreciative moan she gave. By the time he pulled away, she was breathless and dizzy with want. 

“My turn, Vixen.” The crooked smile, the scar that ticked up all made her heart race. Releasing her, he produced a silk scarf from the pocket of his jacket and stepped out of his pants. He reached for her mask, but she held up her hand to stop him, tisking softly. 

“A lady never reveals her secrets.” She pulled the silk slowly from his hands, letting the soft fabric slide across his fingers. Turning away, she removed her mask and then blindfolded herself. Facing her Hound again, she reached out to find him. Taking her hand, he led her back to the plush settee, urging her to lay back. He leaned over her, kissing along her collarbone, down to one full breast. He took the other in hand as he took her taut nipple into his mouth, suckling softly until her hand found his hair, fisting with a soft sigh of pleasure. 

Hands roamed down her sides, mouth following. “Perfection,” he murmured against her skin, fingers squeezing voluptuous hips before sliding to one thigh, fingering the band of her stockings. Slowly, he drew the lace down, kissing along her skin as if they had all the time in the world. He repeated the loving worship with the other leg until she was completely bare before him. 

His lips and hands continued to roam, fingers feather-light and teasing. He would lavish attention on her breasts, teasing toward the apex of her thighs before pulling off again. The Hound intended to tease her until she-

“Please!” she keened, hips arching when he roamed closer again. “Please, touch me,” she begged, bending one knee and resting her leg to the side, opening for him. Her hand captured his wrist, pushing it down to her aching core. 

He chuckled at her impatience, even though it was exactly the reaction he’d intended to draw from her. His middle finger drew up and down her wet slit, though the jerk of her hips told him that wasn’t the level of touch she’d been hoping for. 

Pushing into her soft folds, he sought the tight bundle of nerves that made her gasp with a sharp “yes!” He continued to tease, working with the instinctive roll of her hips. When he slipped two fingers into her, her hand slapped onto his shoulder before her nails dragged down his back. 

“So wet,” he grumbled before flicking one nipple with his tongue, “did you so enjoy my cock?” 

“Yes!” She tightened around his fingers, her entire body shuddering when he curled them up, seeking and finding the sweet spot. The Hound continued to pleasure her with his fingers and roaming mouth, making her writhe and whimper. The stubble on his jaw made her gasp, such a sharp contrast to his hot, wet tongue. He continued to kiss his way back to her lips, then along her jaw. 

The low timbre of his voice in her ear made her shiver. “How shall I take you, my beautiful prize? Shall I take you like this, legs spread and begging prettily? On your hands and knees, like a true hound?” She sucked in a sharp breath at that, and he gave a triumphant smile.

His lips brushed against her sensitive lobe, palm pressing against her clit as he continued to pump his fingers inside of her, eliciting needy moans. “Mm,” he hummed softly, “on your hands and knees, blind to everything. Only able to feel what I do to you and hear how our bodies come together.”

The Vixen was disappointed when his fingers left her, but his order to present herself and the anticipation of what was to come quenched it quickly. Allowing him to guide her to keep her on the settee, she shifted her stance, settling on all fours. She felt him tighten the blindfold behind her head to ensure it wouldn’t slip off. Immediately after, she felt his weight settle on the settee behind her. His calloused hands gripped her backside, pulling her toward him until she was pressed against his aching cock. 

The Hound reached down to guide his cock between her thighs, thrusting slowly to cover his length in her hot slick. She ran her tongue over her lower lip before biting it, keeping back her request for  _ more. _ She didn’t want him against her, she wanted him  _ in _ her. 

“So incredibly beautiful,” his murmured, reverent words of praise accompanying the slow thrust into her that she’d been craving so deeply. Her body stretched to accommodate his thick girth, filling her inch by inch until she didn’t know where he ended and she began. 

Her whimper developed into a full moan as he pulled out and then snapped his hips to bury himself to the hilt again. He continued the pace, drawing out slowly and then filling her again with quick thrusts. The soft cry of pleasure with each motion urged him faster until there was no pause. 

Lowering herself onto her elbows, she rested her forehead against a forearm, pressing back against him. One hand snaked beneath her and between her thighs, circling her pearl with quick motions. The Hound hissed behind her, gripping her backside and pulling her harder against his hips. “You feel so good,” he growled. 

Her wanton moans grew louder the closer she came to release. He’d already brought her so close with his magical fingers, The fullness of each thrust paired with his hand roaming her back, the sound of their meeting and the grunts and growls he couldn’t suppress brought her the rest of the way. 

It came upon her so quickly she didn’t even have time to voice a warning. Instead, her shout of pleasure and the feel of her tight heat contracting around him told him everything. His fingers buried into her soft hips, driving into her as she came and prolonging her pleasure. “Maker’s breath, you feel so good coming for me.” 

When it became too much, she slumped forward, relieved to hear him moan in triumph rather than groan in disappointment. His arm wrapped around her and pulled her up to her knees, trapped against his hard body. One hand roamed while the other held her up, his lips on her neck and shoulder. 

She felt the blindfold slip from her head before his lips brushed against her ear. “So beautiful, Gwen.” It was the first time he’d said her name all evening. 

Still breathless, she wiggled back into him. “Are we not playing any more?” 

“A man can only go so long without seeing your beautiful face and hearing his name pass your lips when you come undone around him.” 

“We haven’t done that yet,” she pointed out. 

“I know,” he growled in her ear, “because we aren’t done yet.” 

She smiled when he released her, sitting back against the far arm of the settee. “I was hoping you would say that.” 

Cullen removed his mask and summoned her with a crook of his finger, mimicking her earlier motions. She climbed onto his lap, straddling his hips and grinding against him. “Will you come for me again, my love?” Her answer was to reach between him and guide him back into her. She sank over him, watching the play of pleasure on his face. The way his scarred lips opened with silent praise, his fingers digging into her hips and speaking where his tongue couldn’t find the words. 

Her hips moved in slow motions, grinding against his pelvis rather than rising and falling over him. She could feel him deep inside, sending resounding thrums of pleasure coursing through her, contrary to the sharper bursts of pleasure that his previous rutting had supplied. Both distinctly different sensations and judging by the look on Cullen’s face, he enjoyed this just as much as she did. 

Releasing her voluptuous hips, one hand found her breast, fingers teasing her already peaked nipple to elicit another lusty moan. His other hand rested on the joint of her hip, the rough pad of his thumb seeking between her slick lips, now swollen and warm from the friction of their lovemaking. Cullen’s thumb found her clit, rolling over the bundle of nerves in short circles. He knew her-his prize, his Vixen, his love-and knew just how to bring her the most pleasure. 

She bit her lower lip, white teeth brilliant against the sanguine crimson. Her head fell back and his hand moved from her breast, to the slim column of her throat. It rose to her cheek, then back through her hair, tugging gently. 

“Look at me, Gwen. Give me those beautiful eyes.” Cullen growled, his thumb pressing harder, tighter circles around her clit. He was rewarded with a needy moan as she clenched around him. Raising her head, she looked down at him. 

She braced herself with her hands against his taut stomach, rocking her hips against his and chasing her pleasure as he had chased her all evening. Raising and narrowing his hips, his pelvis fit better between her beautiful thighs and allowed him to get, incredibly, deeper into her tight heat. He could feel how close she was, the movement of her hips growing erratic, her breath coming in short pants between bursts of moans. 

“Cullen,” she gasped, nails raking against his skin as her hands gathered into fists, “I’m close, I’m so close.” It was a statement, but she was also pleading. 

He grunted, hips jerking up of their own accord. His brain shouted at him to push her over the edge. He needed it, needed to bring her that pleasure as much as-more than-he needed to breathe. 

“You’re so beautiful, even more so when you come undone for me.” His thumb over her clit applied just the right amount of pressure. His voice had just the right edge of request and command. His eyes burned into her. When she came for him, it was everything he  _ needed _ . 

His name spilled from her lips and her cry of pleasure made his ears ring. She spasmed around him and her movements slowed. Cullen’s hands flew to her waist, urging her to continue her frantic motions. “Don’t stop, keep riding me. Take me with you.” Her sharp nod made her curls bob and she whimpered his name. 

It was enough to bring him over the edge as well. He continued to rock her hips against him as he spilled inside of her. Her lingering pleasure milked his own and the primal, animalistic shout he gave made Gwen’s ears ring. He lifted her off of him, and brought her back down with a sharp tug, making both of them cry out. 

As one, they seemed to reach their limit. She collapsed over him and Cullen immediately enveloped her in his arms. He buried his face against her neck, inhaling the heady mix of her unique scent and their lovemaking. She would quake occasionally, murmuring his name as he whispered in her ear the sweetest words that were only for her and only when they were alone. 

“We should get back to the party.” She didn’t seem to be in any hurry to do so, curled up against his chest with his softening cock still buried inside of her. Cullen’s arms tightened around her and he took a long, steadying breath. 

“Not yet, let’s just stay a little while longer. I always have to share you with the world when I selfishly want to keep you all to myself.” His low rumble of contentment made her heart race.

“Do you think that will ever change?” She asked it quietly, almost as if she hadn’t meant to say it. “That maybe we’ll spend too much time together? That you’ll-” 

“What, dove? That I’ll grow weary of you? That I’ll decide that you aren’t what I want? That one day I’ll look at you and see the flaws you find when you look in the mirror?” His arms loosened, his hands roaming her back and sides. She kept her face buried in the crook of his neck but he didn’t need to see it to know that was exactly what she was thinking. She was tough, his love, but he knew that her insecurities were there even if she didn’t voice them often. 

“No, Gwenith, that will never change. You are everything and I will spend my life showing you that. Every curve and dimple is perfect. Every imperfection you worry over, I will show you the delight of. It will never change because I will never be satisfied that I have shown you how beautiful you are. Even after I have made you believe it. It won't be enough. But you are, Gwen. You are more than enough.” His strong arms circled her again, squeezing her tightly against him as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. 

He was quiet for a moment, listening to her breathe. “Perhaps we should go back to the party,” he suggested softly. “The night has just begun and the fox is a nocturnal hunter.” Gwen was silent a moment, considering. Cullen couldn’t help but return the smile she gave when she finally lifted her head. 

“I’ll give you a fifteen minute headstart.” Her emerald eyes glinted with a playfulness he would never tire of. 

“How much more time will you give me if I make you come one more time before we part?” His hips rocked against hers suggestively. 

“ _ More _ time?” She scoffed, eyes narrowing playfully. “Your fifteen minutes has already started.”

He flipped them, blanketing her body with his while still managing to keep his rapidly hardening cock buried inside of her. “I’ll make it work.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! You can find winterwolfwitch on Tumblr (link at the beginning notes) and you can also find my Tumblr here: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/jacklyn-flynn.
> 
> I would love to hear your thoughts so go ahead and make my day with a comment if you're so inclined! 
> 
> Lots of <3, Jacks


End file.
